Black and White
by LittleFishGirl1103
Summary: Arthur and his team find themselves working together again a year and a half after the Fischer Inception. The Job: Get to Gotham City and successfully extract information that could be vital in helping to save millions of lives. The Catch: The team won't just be up against projections in a dream. They will face real-life thugs and perhaps Gotham's Reckoning himself.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello everyone, I just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to read this story. I hope you like it. It's a work in progress and I want to continue to improve on it. Thank you to my beta, labyrinthinemelange - you're awesome! Also, I don't own anything from Batman or Inception.**

* * *

Flashing lights.

Piercing sirens.

Arthur looked up sharply from the wreckage he was standing in. "Cops?"

"Ambulance," Eames responded wearily.

_Relief._

"Good. Flag 'em down. We need to get him out of here before someone sees us."

"Do you think we have enough time," Eames asked. "The building is gonna collapse any second now."

"I think we have time," Arthur said, surveying the damage done to the large foyer they were standing in.

"Yeah, but we don't have much," Ariadne responded, assessing the building with an architect's eye. "The columns that support the ceiling are cracking big time. They aren't going to be able to handle the weight of the rest of the building for much longer."

Yusuf got up from the pile of rubble he was sitting on and ran into the path of the ambulance coming towards them.

The ambulance screeched to a halt and the door was thrown open angrily.

"Hey – you trying to get yourself killed?! What's your problem man?"

Yusuf ran over to the paramedic. "Sorry – but we have someone who really needs your help. He's hurt very badly."

The driver studied Yusuf for a moment before banging on the side of his truck to signal for his coworkers to load up their gear. Anyone who would throw themselves in front of a big, speeding vehicle must be desperate.

"Over there," Yusuf pointed.

Two more paramedics emerged from the truck, gear in tow, and made their way over to where Arthur, Eames and Ariadne were standing.

The driver, identified by the name patch on his uniform as Stefano, froze when he looked behind Arthur.

"Is that -," Stefano stopped talking suddenly.

Eames appeared next to Stefano without warning with a pistol suddenly shoved into his neck.

"Shh… you just load him up quickly and do as we say," Eames instructed in a low voice.

He looked at the other paramedics who had stopped in their tracks at the sight of the Smith and Wesson in Eames' hand.

"The city's in chaos right now. Nobody will miss you. Do as you're told and you won't have to eat a bullet."

"You'll be compensated," Arthur said to alleviate the fear on the men's faces.

"You want us to help this monster," Stefano asked in shock. "_He did this_. We'd be better off letting him die – it would be the right thing to do. Why should we do anything at all?"

Arthur looked at Stefano and pulled out his own pistol. "The consequences would be worse if you didn't help us. Maybe not right this second, but in the long run, it would be worse."

"Not like you'd be around to see it if you don't get a move on," Eames added, painfully digging the gun further into Stefano's neck.

Stefano eyed Arthur's gun. He could tell that the men weren't bluffing – especially the big one practically on top of him. He would shoot him in a second. He felt every bit like a coward, but he didn't want to die. He had a life. A family.

He finally looked at Arthur and nodded his head.

Eames gave Stefano a shove. "Make it fast."

Several minutes later, the paramedics got back into the vehicle with their patient. Yusuf sat up front with Stefano. Arthur, Ariadne and Eames crowded in the back with the other two paramedics.

"Which hospital are we headed to," Stefano asked Arthur loudly. It was hard to hear over the engine of the truck.

"We aren't going to a hospital. He'll show you where to go," Arthur yelled back, referring to Yusuf.

As soon as the vehicle began to move, the paramedics began their work.

"- Look at this guy, what a mess -"

"- IV's in, he's hooked up, checking vitals -"

"- Barely getting a pulse here -"

"- 2 CCs -"

"- Got him intubated-"

"- He's losing blood fast -"

_BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!_

"- WE'RE LOSING HIM – GET THE PADDLES!"

One of the paramedics reached into a small space under where Arthur was sitting and pulled out a defibrillator while the other one removed the remainder of the clothing on the man's torso.

"- Set to 200 joules -"

None of the team members could describe the sound of a defibrillator being made ready to use, but they would never forget it or mistake it for any other sound.

"CLEAR!"

_THUMP._

"CLEAR!"

_THUMP._

"CLEAR!"

_THUMP._

"Ok – set to 260 – CLEAR!"

_THUMP._

"CLEAR!"

_THUMP._

"SET TO 320."

"NO - THAT'S TOO HIGH, TOO FAST – _WE CAN'T DO THAT_ -"

"- _YOU SEE ANY OTHER OPTIONS_? He can take it – trust me."

The team watched, captivated, as the paramedics tried to bring the man on the gurney back to life.

"Arthur I still don't understand why we're bothering to save him at all," Eames said. "He said he didn't want to help us. He didn't want to live. Not after her."

"That's not true," Arthur countered, not taking his eyes off the scene in front of him. "He wanted to help. He truly wanted to help us. He just felt like he couldn't. Maybe if he survives this, he'll think of this as a second chance to make the right choice."

"And who gave you permission to decide who gets to live and die," Eames challenged. "Who gave you the right to decide that for him?"

Arthur finally turned and looked at Eames. "If that was you on the gurney, wouldn't you want someone to fight for your life? You can't tell me that if you had a chance to do things over again, you wouldn't take it. I know you're about being a free man, nothing to tie you down, but even you have regrets."

"CLEAR!"

_THUMP._

_BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP…_

The paramedic with the paddles looked up at the team. There was guilt written all over his face.

"He's in very critical condition, but he's back. Wherever we're going, we need to get there fast."

_BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP…_

"He should have died instantly. His will to live is… strong. Very strong."


	2. The Company Man

Ch. 1

_**Khao Hom Restaurant, Bangkok, Thailand**_

Something was wrong. Arthur could feel it.

He was sure it wasn't the Chow job in Hong Kong. That went well. Arthur's phone rang, drawing him briefly out of his thoughts until he heard what was on the other end.

"Mr. Lin thanks you for your outstanding work. Your payment will be wired to you at midnight."

The line went dead with a click.

So it definitely wasn't the Chow job. But something still wasn't right. The only question was what.

Having nothing better to do – and wanting to avoid Soi Cowboy and its seedy bars at all costs – he settled for a late dinner in a decent part of Bangkok to pass the time – and take his mind off the uneasy feeling for awhile.

He didn't have long to wait. Within minutes of ordering, an older woman arrived at his table carrying a steaming bowl of curry and white rice. As he ate, Arthur kept an eye on his surroundings. There didn't seem to be anything strange, but one could never be too careful after a job.

People of all different nationalities and ethnicities mingled in the hole-in-the-wall restaurant. The place was dingy and the food was cheap, but Arthur preferred it that way. He was a man with expensive taste and usually chose to eat in elegant five star restaurants but nobody would ever think to look for him in a place like Khao Hom.

After a minute of surveying his surroundings, Arthur's eyes landed on a man at the next table, also dining alone.

He looked like the average tourist or expatriate milling around Thailand, but he seemed out of place in the relaxed environment. He was blond and had a scruffy beard that covered a strong chin.

Despite the symmetry of his features, the man couldn't be called handsome in the conventional sense. He had an interesting face nonetheless, with strong, masculine features which possessed a ruggedness only undermined by the elegant way he carried himself.

'_He's trying too hard to blend in.'_

He supposed the man could get away with presenting himself in whatever light he chose. He fit the tourist profile and nobody was really paying attention. But Arthur knew better.

The man was wearing a simple green shirt with a few holes in it, khaki shorts, worn out sandals and a pair of sunglasses.

Arthur also knew quality when he saw it, and the black plastic wayfarers that hung from the collar of the man's shirt were well crafted. Expensive.

The holes in the shirt were too clean. Too symmetrical.

His beard could have used a trim, but his hair was maintained well. His attire might have been lacking, but it could not conceal the truth.

The man was loaded.

There was something else though… Arthur concentrated hard on the man.

'_What is it about this guy…?'_

His watch was interesting. It was a black and yellow watch with the Batman logo on the face.

'_The watch…'_

The puzzle pieces suddenly clicked into place.

_**Hong Kong International Airport, three days earlier**_

_Arthur had just gotten off his plane and was on his way to meet his new employer, Lin Li Wei, when he ran into someone._

'_Oof!'_

'_I'm so sorry,' Arthur dropped his luggage and helped the man to his feet. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –'_

'_It's ok,' the man replied with a smile while straightening his clothes out. 'No harm done.'_

_Arthur noticed the Batman watch on the man's left wrist. 'I like your watch. You're a fan of the Caped Crusader?'_

'_I am,' the man said, beaming. 'I've had this watch for years – my parents gave it to me. Anyway, I should be going. Thanks for helping me up. Have a nice day.'_

_Arthur picked his belongings up off the floor and continued on. He had to be in Kowloon in less than an hour._

_**Present day**_

Arthur realized that he never got a good look at the man's face, so the watch was the only consistent factor. How many people could Arthur run into in the span of several days with the same cheap watch?

'_Maybe it was just a coincidence,' _Arthur reasoned. But no… he _had_ seen him more than once. In the corner of his eye, in the background. He mentally went through a list of some of the public places he had been to in both Hong Kong and Bangkok.

The airport.

The tea house.

The bank.

'_You're slipping,'_ he thought to himself. For a moment he considered disappearing out the back. _'He'd only find me again though. Better just deal with him now and be done with it.'_

Arthur immediately stopped eating and flagged one of the workers down.

"Kotort khap, hong naam yuu tee nai?"

The man pointed to the back of the restaurant. Arthur got up from his table and walked to the men's restroom.

He closed the bathroom door behind him and pulled his Glock 17 out of its holder. He turned around to see a young Thai man at the sink, staring at him.

"Get out," Arthur commanded. He got no reaction. Either the man was too scared to move or he didn't understand English.

'_I'll let the gun do the talking for me,'_ Arthur decided. He was running short on time and needed the man gone quickly.

"Org pai," he repeated in Thai, gesturing to the door with the gun. "Pai!"

The young man's eyes widened at the sight of his weapon. He edged past Arthur and sped out of the bathroom. Arthur took a look at his reflection in the mirror and decided at the last second to put his gun away.

No need to draw extra attention. He only had to wait a few minutes before the man walked into the deserted restroom.

Right on cue, the man stepped into the bathroom. He realized very quickly that Arthur was waiting for him.

"Hello," the man said warily.

"Small world," Arthur responded bluntly.

The man looked at Arthur in the mirror, confusion etched in his face. "I'm sorry?"

"You've been following me. Why?"

"I… believe you have the wrong person."

Arthur chuckled. He wasn't up for games, so he just cut to the chase. "You should try wearing a different watch."

The man's eyes darted down nervously toward his watch and then back up at Arthur. He knew the jig was up.

"I never liked flashy things," he admitted in a weary tone, shoulders drooping slightly. "I wear it more for sentiment than anything else. You remember that my parents gave this to me."

"I do," Arthur confirmed.

"May I join you for dinner," the man asked suddenly.

"I prefer to eat alone," Arthur answered, turning for the door. "Go home and don't let me see you again," he added, the warning very clear in his tone.

"Arthur…"

He stopped and turned.

"You know my name," Arthur said flatly.

"I've been following you since Seoul. Please, I need to talk to you. It's important."

Arthur inspected the man closer. He looked very tired. For a moment Arthur felt sorry for him. He wasn't easy to track down.

Speaking of which…

'_How __**did**__ he find me,' _he wondered suddenly.

Arthur sighed heavily. "Alright. Come on." The man seemed relatively harmless. Still, if anything went wrong, he had his weapon ready and had no qualms about shooting him.

The men made their way back up to the dining area and put their meals at one table. Arthur waited patiently while the man took a quick phone call.

The man was American, Arthur deduced, but he had traces of a Russian accent.

"_Self-made money maybe_," he thought while taking a sip of the cold tea in front of him.

Arthur noted that when the man went to open his wallet to retrieve a card with a phone number on it, there was very little cash in there. Small denominations, totaling at most 1470 Baht – about 45 USD.

Most wealthy tourists survived on credit cards. The Visa or MasterCard could very well have doubled as a second passport. Those cards opened doors, and a lot of them.

The man was confident without a doubt, but he wasn't arrogant. He seemed to know the value of a dollar. He knew hard work. Regardless, he was wealthy, and there was only reason a man like him would seek Arthur out.

"Before you go any further, I want to know who you are," Arthur said once the man was off his phone.

"Smart and straight to the point. Your reputation is well deserved. My name is Alexander. Alexander Ivanov."

Arthur smiled and raised both eyebrows at Ivanov in surprise. "Not _the_ Alexander Ivanov? The CEO of Wick Industries in Chicago?"

"The same."

"I take it you're in town on business." Arthur was stalling. He knew full well what Ivanov wanted, but he hoped he was wrong anyway.

"I need your help."

"You'll have to be more specific," Arthur said. "Usually when people ask for my 'help' it involves something dangerous."

"It _is_ a dangerous job, I won't deny it," Ivanov conceded, "but my need is dire. I need an extractor."

"Mr. Ivanov… I specialize in details, the inner workings of an operation. I do the research; take care of the particulars. Not extraction itself." Arthur explained. "You'll have to find someone else."

Ivanov was suddenly sweating. He rubbed his eyes which were dark and shadowed. The man looked haunted. He leaned forward towards Arthur, undeterred by his response.

"Look, I know your former extractor is retired," he said in a rushed whisper. "I also know that you have been well trained to extract. Please. I have a serious crisis on my hands and I think you're the only one I can go to."

'_Someone's done their homework_,' Arthur thought to himself.

"Who referred you?"

"An associate of mine, in Tokyo."

"Saito," Arthur stated while thinking back on the mess that was the Fischer Job. "You worked for Proclus Global?"

Ivanov smiled tightly and sat back in his chair. "Yes."

Arthur studied the man in front of him before speaking. "Mr. Ivanov. In this business, people don't just talk freely. You're sure it was Saito who referred you?"

"Yes, it was him. I know you two had an understanding -,"

"– An understanding? No. No, no, we had a written, _legally binding_ contract that included breach of confidentiality," Arthur interrupted. "I'm gonna have to go and find him now..." He began to stand up.

"A legally binding contract for an illegal practice," Ivanov asked shrewdly.

"Extraction is not illegal," Arthur replied.

"It's not," Ivanov agreed, "If you're doing it under a government program and by their guidelines. Extracting for the private sector, however, _is_ illegal. If it's being used to gather information about a client's competition – which is usually why people hire extractors these days - then it is considered industrial espionage, which is also illegal. The US has laws against it. I'm sure most developed countries have similar ones."

Arthur had no reply. The man knew what he was talking about. He watched Ivanov closely.

"Saito gave me your information because he said that you and Mr. Cobb were the best at what you do. Maybe he shouldn't have. But he felt that my problem was serious enough to break the rules for. I really need your help. Hear me out."

Arthur sighed and shook his head, but felt his resolve crumbling. Saito was a man of his word – he proved that with Cobb. Arthur trusted his judgment.

'_So much for a vacation,' _he thought in resignation, sitting back down.

"You get five minutes. Start talking."

* * *

_**Ecole d'Architecture**__**, Paris, France**_

Ariadne was in a lecture hall packing up to go home after yet another day on autopilot.

She went to school, elaborated on the theories Monsieur Bontecou droned on and on about, graded papers, and after school let out, went back to her small, but rather luxurious flat that sat a mere ten minutes away from the Arc de Triomphe and overlooked the business district of Paris, La Défense, far in the background.

At night, the glittering lights from the skyscrapers of La Défense, combined with the romantic atmosphere of the park right below the flat, made for a breathtaking view. It was a place many people would pay through the nose for.

It took Ariadne a long time to really notice the great view she had. For nearly a year, Ariadne thought of nothing else but inception. Nothing else mattered.

She often thought about the Fischer Job and her 'co-workers.' The first six months away from them had been the hardest; the most empty. She constantly replayed the last moment she and the rest of the team were together.

_**Los Angeles International Airport, a year and a half ago**_

'_Ariadne. Ariadne – listen to me, __**look at me**__ - by the time you get to Paris, the money will be wired to your account. I'll take care of the authorities. Now get going before they see us.'_

_Ariadne couldn't think straight. Cobb was home free, but what about the rest of them? Eames said it would only be minutes before the police – no, he had said they were Interpol agents - caught on to them. _

_Were those sirens? God, yes. Definitely sirens. Getting louder. _

_In the back of Ariadne's mind she thought it was absurd to have sirens on police cars going off. If you were going to catch a criminal, you had to be stealthy about it._

_Was she a criminal? No time to think about that now._

'_Arthur, I don't know my way around!'_

'_Just keep moving Ariadne – don't stop. Forget all of this – it was a one- time thing. I'll make sure nobody follows you. Go.'_

_She saw a few suits casually strolling her way. Arthur and the rest of the team disappeared, leaving her in a strange city all alone, afraid she would be arrested at any moment. _

_Scared. She was scared and alone. What was she supposed to do now?_

_Keep moving. Right._

_She had to keep moving._

_She stayed on the move for awhile, hopping from one town to another, using plane, train, boat, and bus to keep moving. When Ariadne finally got back to Paris, she stayed holed up in her flat for several weeks. She was terrified that Interpol or some other agency would find her and make her disappear. _

_**Present day, Paris, France**_

She didn't like to think of that moment, but she couldn't stop herself from doing it anyway.

Ariadne missed watching Arthur and Eames snip at each other throughout the day.

She missed her little talks with Yusuf, and she even missed Cobb, although she couldn't say that he felt the same about all of them. She missed them all terribly.

The thing she missed most was being on the field. The ability to go into dreams and create was like nothing else for her. Waking up every day and learning how to create in that abandoned warehouse became her life. It became a part of her.

Most architects never went into the field, but if she hadn't gone in, the team would have failed the mission.

It was like what she had told Cobb before, the deeper they went into Fischer, the deeper they went into Cobb. He was calm and collected on the outside – most of the time – and a complete mess on the inside.

Arthur once said that the real Mallorie Cobb had been a lovely person.

Ariadne had a difficult time imagining that. The projection scared her beyond belief.

By the time she got a chance to interact with Mal, the guilt Cobb carried twisted her into something horrendous.

Had Cobb told a psychiatrist of the things that happened, he might have been prescribed medication and years of therapy on a couch maybe, to combat the effects of what happened between him and his wife.

Ariadne thought it would be counter-productive to try medications to help 'cure' Cobb. The medications would have just sedated Cobb and sent him right back into Mal's arms.

Cobb working in the subconscious was the equivalent of a severe alcoholic working in a brewery. He couldn't escape her. She was everywhere.

Towards the end, Mal had gotten so out of control that Ariadne was afraid that Cobb would become completely unhinged.

The team barely got through the job. At the time, she wasn't sure Cobb and Saito would even make it out of limbo - it was a long shot.

Still, the Fischer job turned out to be a good thing for Cobb. It forced him to look at the hard truth he tried to forget and accept what happened. It healed a part of him and reunited him with his children in the end.

The way she thought changed after the job. She became more creative and was able to think on her feet and react quickly. These new and improved traits gave her an edge over the other candidates – despite her GPA - and eventually got her the job of teacher's assistant for the faculty of architecture.

Unfortunately, she often caught herself daydreaming more than ever. She felt out of touch with reality.

Ariadne barely passed her classes after the Fischer job. She graduated a semester later than she intended to and didn't want to do anything after graduation. She honestly only went for the teacher's assistant position that was posted because Professor Miles urged her to.

He wanted her to do something – _anything_ – that would get her out of her flat. Ariadne knew that she should continue her education, but she couldn't bring herself to make the effort.

It was only in the recent months that Ariadne could finally refocus on her life. She had come to terms that she would probably never get to do anything as spectacular as inception again, and at long last, she had made peace with that.

It had been a year and a half since the Fischer job.

Two months ago she had her first natural dream since the inception.

A month ago, she left her totem on the nightstand next to her bed.

Two weeks ago, she sat on the balcony outside her living room and had a cup of coffee. She soaked in the sights and smells of Paris and felt the first tendrils of contentment make its way inside of her.

It was the first time she felt normal in a long time. She was finally able to pick up the pieces of her life and move on.

Her progress had been rather slow, but it was progress nonetheless.

Gathering the rest of her things, Ariadne bent down to retrieve her bag when she heard a noise behind her. She froze when she saw a tall man standing by the entrance, impeccably dressed in a three piece suit with slicked back brown hair and dark eyes.

Arthur.

Ariadne suddenly wished she had her bishop with her; she needed a reality check. She longed to feel the familiar brass dips and grooves.

She slowly straightened back up, bag forgotten.

"What are you doing here," she asked him quietly. She didn't have it in her to pretend to be happy to see him.

"I was just passing through. I was in the neighborhood so I thought I'd stop in to see how you were," Arthur responded smoothly.

Ariadne observed Arthur through shuttered eyes. "You know I don't like lies. You said we wouldn't have contact again. I'll ask you one more time." Her voice shook. "Why are you in Paris?"

Arthur felt ashamed suddenly. Resorting to lies was not something he did, despite the nature of his job. Why he was doing it now, he didn't know. He sighed deeply before answering her question.

"I came to offer you a job."

Ariadne scoffed. She didn't answer him for a long time, but when she did, her voice was quiet again.

"Sixteen months. It took me sixteen months to dream again."

"I know."

"It's been a year and a half. I haven't had contact with anyone. Not Cobb, not Eames, nobody. You told me to 'just forget.' You left me at LAX and told me to fend for myself."

"I know."

"Do you any idea the hell I've been through just to pull myself up to a level where I could function again?"

"I know," he repeated sadly. "I honestly didn't want to drag you back into this again. But, you're the best architect I know of. I have a job I have to assemble the team for. I wouldn't ask it of you if it wasn't so important."

"I think it's funny how you think you can just come back into my life and start talking about more work. What makes this one more important than your other assignments? One corporation trying to take over another is hardly life threatening."

Arthur took another step closer to Ariadne. She didn't move away from him, but he didn't miss her left hand – her totem hand – twitching ever so slightly.

"This is different. It has nothing to do with the usual. No company takeovers, no corporate espionage. This is worse."

Ariadne looked up at Arthur questioningly. The tone of his voice drained the remainder of her anger and piqued her interest, as much as she hated to admit it. He sounded extremely _worried_. This was very unlike Arthur.

Arthur picked up on what Ariadne was asking with her eyes. He shook his head. "I can't talk about it right this second. Will you help me? Can I at least talk to you about it later?"

Ariadne stood still for nearly a full minute before deciding that she would help him. She made a promise to herself to stay attached to the real world. This would not become her life again. Ariadne would not go through losing a grip on reality a second time.

"What kind of job," she finally asked.

"Extraction." Arthur said. "I know," he said, interrupting the questions he knew were coming, "you've never done extraction. But it won't be a problem, I can teach you. After learning inception, it'll probably seem like child's play."

"Does this 'job' involve getting shot at?"

"Maybe. But I can't discuss the details until I have everyone else in."

Ariadne hesitated.

"Please Ariadne, I need your help."

"Consider this a personal favor," she said a moment. "But, no more after this. I'm serious."

"Thank you," Arthur said with a small sad smile. "I have to assemble the rest of the team, but I'll contact you with the details."

Ariadne nodded and looked on as he turned to walk away. Arthur stopped suddenly and turned around.

"It was good to see you again. See you soon," he said softly before forcing himself to walk away.

* * *

_**Digo Beach Casino, Mombasa, Kenya**_

Eames studied the note he had been slipped from an attendant passing by the blackjack table where he was sitting and losing miserably.

_Yusuf's lab - 17:00. _

'_Arthur, no doubt,' _he thought wryly. _'He's brave for coming here. Better see what he's up to.' _

After the Fischer job, Eames had traveled for awhile alone. Kaohsiung, Incheon, Amsterdam, Budapest, Perth – after awhile, the places he visited blurred together.

There was nothing to hold him there; nothing meaningful for him. Kenya was his home, and so he returned to Mombasa.

He didn't really have any family, and people in his line of work didn't have friends. Merely associates. And he was never one to spend personal time with work colleagues. It got complicated, and if there was one thing Eames hated, it was complications.

He'd had several other jobs since then, all of them cake, compared to the inception, but for the most part, Eames had been lying low.

The money Saito had paid went a long way. Eames remembered the kid from France – Ariadne – he remembered her concerns with receiving the amount of money Saito had paid them. He also remembered the advice he had given her.

'_Look, don't worry about it, little girl – alright, fine, young woman, whatever. When you rack up some time in the extraction business, you'll get the hang of how to deal with that amount of money. And when you do, you won't have to worry about daft things like the police or federal prison… you'll learn how to hide it well. Don't worry yourself about that. Just deny, deny, deny…'_

God, he really _was_ a horrible influence on the newbies, now that he thought about it.

Eames was not a material man, despite his best efforts to be one. Oh, he liked decadence; he liked having fine things, but who didn't? In the end though, they were just things.

He didn't know it, but what Eames really craved was meaningful human connections. Thugs and cheap women didn't exactly fit the definition of the word 'meaningful.'

He was surprised to learn that he actually _liked _his associates from the Fischer job. There weren't too many people that Eames liked; he could barely tolerate most, at best.

'_Speaking of associates…,'_ Eames looked down at his watch. '_16:45…Time to go.'_

He got up from his place, cashed in the rest of his shiny counterfeit chips and began to walk towards the exit.


	3. The Grind

Ch. 2

Eames had nearly reached the door of the casino when he spotted a familiar face by the door: tailored clothes, spotless shoes, sleek, dark hair, and a permanent look of mixed stoicism and disdain.

Eames discretely made his way to the wall where Arthur was leaning. He reclined against the wall.

"Fancy seeing you here," Eames said, smirking. "What happened to the lab?"

"The plan hasn't changed." Arthur glanced down at his watch. "But Yusuf's not expecting us until 1700." He clapped a firm hand on his back, smiling broadly. "It's been awhile, Eames. Let's unwind for a little bit. Relax. You want a drink?"

"Alright, Arthur, what's going on in that funny little head of yours," Eames asked, allowing himself to be herded back to the bar. "You don't relax. You might dislodge the stick up your arse."

Arthur said nothing as they sat on the plush red barstools in front of them.

"Don't tell me you were foolish enough to attract some attention?"

"Not so far," Arthur answered, keeping his voice low. "Although, I could be wrong…"

"What're you on about?"

"Behind you."

Eames glanced in the mirror behind the bar and spotted a young African woman eyeing them from a dark corner. The woman was about 5'5, and shapely.

She was wearing a white button down shirt, khaki slacks with a thin belt around her waist, blue shoes with white laces and soles, and a pair of glasses with a dark brown, rectangular frame on her face.

She certainly didn't look like the rest of the casino girls to Eames. Too plain.

"Looks like COBAL's started hiring locals," Arthur asked, his voice deceptively mild.

"Maybe," Eames replied. He turned to Arthur. "We should leave."

"Too late. We leave now, we'll give ourselves away."

"She could sound the alarm any second Arthur – I'm surprised she hasn't already done it."

"I'm telling you, just play it cool, Eames, I've got it under control -,"

"Under control," Eames interrupted with a whisper. "We've been sitting here for five minutes with this girl watching us -,"

Arthur suddenly brandished his gun and pointed it behind Eames.

Eames whipped his head around to find the young woman standing right behind him.

"Do you always point your weapon when a woman tries to speak to you," she asked Arthur softly, revealing a husky - but still very feminine - voice.

"Explains why he can't keep a girl around," Eames quipped, not missing a beat. "Nothing personal, darling – does this with everyone."

"I understand," the woman replied with a small smile. "Yusuf said this might happen. He said you might mistake me for one of COBAL's people."

Eames' body visibly relaxed.

Arthur's face flushed in embarrassment as he lowered his weapon at the mention of Yusuf. "I can't afford to be friendly. I'm in the lion's den here. You'd be cautious too, if you were in my shoes."

"Wrong," Eames said. "If I were in your shoes I wouldn't be obtuse enough to step foot in Mombasa at all."

Arthur shook his head and turned his attention back to the woman behind them. "Who are you," he asked, regaining his composure.

"My name is Nadira. I'm Yusuf's lab assistant," she said.

"Where's he then? I don't see him," Eames said, looking around for the chemist.

"He didn't want to meet in public," Nadira said, looking at Arthur. "After you called, telling him you were gonna stop in, Yusuf took the liberty of finding Mr. Eames."

"He could have told me _before_ I got here." Arthur tried to keep the irritation out of his voice and failed.

"You need more variety in your places of leisure." Nadira said to Eames with a teasing grin.

"Perhaps I should, but you know, there are so few places with decent drink around here," Eames said. "When you find one, you've got to treasure it."

"He also learned that the casino is one of the places on COBAL's watch list." Nadira added, glancing at Arthur. She nodded to the pool tables where Eames and Arthur spotted several men in suits through the haze of cigarettes and dim lighting.

"I think that's our cue to leave," Arthur said, looking around the room.

"Well, wait a minute," Eames said, looking at Arthur. "How are we supposed to get out of here?"

"We could sneak out one of the windows, maybe back by the bathrooms," Nadira suggested. "It leads out to the side street."

"Sweetheart, I don't like the idea of sneaking through a window like some commonplace thief," Eames said, shaking his head. "Let's go out the back."

"How is going out the back any better," Nadira asked. "That's a classic rookie move. We'd probably just get caught faster going that way."

"Follow me," Arthur said, ignoring the both of them. "We're gonna do this the easy way."

"And how's that," Eames asked as he got up from his stool.

"We're walking out the front door."

The trio left the bar and walked out the front door with no incident. For a few minutes, the three of them remained cautious as they moved amongst the locals. So far, there were no COBAL agents in sight.

They relaxed as they walked down the street in silence, the only sounds coming from the locals all around them.

Eames rarely smoked outside of a casino, but he felt as though he could use a hit from the pack of Dunhills he carried in his pocket. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, enjoying the taste of the tobacco on his tongue.

They rounded a corner, only to run into more of COBAL's men.

"Hey – there he is!"

The men spotted Arthur, Eames and Nadira and ran at them, pulling out their weapons. Eames cursed, throwing his cigarette on the ground.

"So much for that plan," Arthur said as he began to move, tugging both Eames and Nadira along with him.

"Arthur, you know how these blokes are," Eames said, after the three of them had ducked around a car. "We're gonna have to split up and meet at Yusuf's lab."

"Ok, let's do that," Arthur agreed, breathlessly. "Give it maybe twenty minutes, get them off your backs, and get to Yusuf's lab in one piece."

Arthur, Eames, and Nadira agreed and took off running in three different directions.

Arthur ran through several alleyways without being seen. After maybe ten minutes, he slowed down and eventually stopped to catch his breath. Maybe luck was on his side.

Arthur looked up from the ground as something appeared out of the corner of his eye. There were two men in suits that saw him at the same time he saw them. So maybe luck wasn't with him after all.

Arthur didn't have to guess who the two men were, or who they worked for. He wondered what made him think for even five seconds that he could walk through Mombasa without being disturbed.

'_I should've just made Eames and Yusuf find me instead.' _

Now he would have to deal with COBAL Engineering, but he knew this day was coming. They would have found him one way or another.

Arthur walked down the dusty alleyway and quickly turned a corner. He bolted from there, and ran down another street crowded with mostly mahogany faces. Arthur heard the men approaching and ducked behind a passing truck, walking alongside it.

The men didn't see him and kept going in the opposite direction. After a moment, Arthur felt safe to step out again. He let go of the rusty Toyota and turned another corner just to bump into a man with a charcoal suit and a ponytail.

It only took the two men a split second to recognize one another – one was a fugitive, the other a COBAL agent.

Arthur reached down to his hip holster to discover that his Glock was gone. He had no idea what happened to it.

'_Great. No weapon.'_

He backed up as the tall and muscular man flicked open a spring-loaded switchblade. They circled each another before he lunged at Arthur with the knife and swiped at him several times.

Arthur dodged him for several moments, crashing into a stall behind him, trying not to get sliced open.

He quickly tired of the man and took care of him the best way he knew how. Arthur reached blindly behind him and grabbed the first thing that reached his hand: a bag of onions.

He then slung the heavy bag at the man's face. The man's head snapped back, trying to avoid the flying onions and Arthur took the opportunity to finish him.

He strode over, grabbed the man by his tie, and swiftly delivered a punch to the face which sent him sprawling into another stall selling fruit. Arthur heard a loud crunch from the man's face.

The man lay on the ground unconscious with oranges and mangoes all around him, while being accosted by the locals upset about their ruined merchandise.

Arthur looked up over the crowd and was spotted by yet another agent. The second man, who was just as tall as the first but twice as wide, ran at him and actually got his meaty hands around Arthur's neck before he could tuck his chin, using brute strength to push him into another stall that sold fish.

Arthur's hands circled the wide wrists attached to the hands that were slowly choking him to death. He tried to pry the man's hands off but the man didn't budge.

His eyes rolled around desperately and he saw nearby, an aluminum skillet with a fish frying in it. The owner of the skillet ran to safety, leaving it unattended. Arthur couldn't shove the man's bulk off of his much smaller frame and began to panic.

He couldn't breathe and his vision was beginning to go cloudy and black around the edges.

Arthur could hear his own heartbeat thudding in his ears. There was a terrible pressure building in his head.

He knew he would have to twist his body to be able to reach that skillet. He tried again to buck the man off of him. Arthur tried once, twice, and a third time but to no avail.

The man was massive and had a good grip on his throat. He wasn't going anywhere. His mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. Arthur eyed the skillet again and realized that he would just have to try without being able to move.

By this time, he had already gone almost a minute with no oxygen and his windpipe being painfully closed. He was getting very weak. Time was running out for him.

He took his hands off the other man's wrists and used the remaining strength he had left to push his body up against the man on top of him while blindly reaching up.

His hands found the skillet. He grabbed the metal handle and pulled. The hot oil and the fish went flying over Arthur's head and landed right on Meaty Hands' face. Some of the oil splashed on Arthur's hands, but he didn't even notice.

Arthur felt the release of pressure from his throat at the same time the man began to scream. He rolled to the ground, violently coughing and gagging.

He saw a combination of stars and black dots. Arthur sucked in several deep breaths of air, willing himself to slow his breathing down so he didn't pass out.

"I really shouldn't have come here," Arthur said breathlessly while staggering to his feet. His throat hurt like never before and he was sure he would have bruises there.

His body ached, his lungs were on fire, his hands were burned, and his new suit was now ruined. Arthur could hear the pounding footsteps of more COBAL agents coming towards him.

He looked in the opposite direction to see another group of men also running towards him. He knew he couldn't fight them all off. He had to figure something out.

Luckily none of them had spotted him yet. Arthur moved down the road away from both groups. He ducked into an alleyway and hid behind a large container of trash. The men ran past without seeing him and Arthur made his escape up the street.

There was a large grate on the side of the road. Arthur sprinted up to it after untangling himself from the crowd of men that were with him and grabbed the bars. He could hear rushing water and figured that the water would drain out into the ocean.

He hated the thought of having to jump in a rushing torrent of sewer water. And he wasn't sure where the water let out. It most likely would go out to sea, but it wasn't a complete certainty.

'_But if you don't do this, you can forget the job - they'll be using your body for target practice.' _

Arthur looked around. So far, so good – none of the men were around and nobody else was even paying attention.

Arthur was in the process of squeezing himself in between the bars of the drain when he felt someone yank him back none too gently by his collar. He turned and saw Eames and Nadira behind him, both looking roughed up.

Eames hair was mussed, his beige blazer was ripped and the knuckles on his right hand were scraped raw and were bleeding. Nadira's clothes were dirty and she had the faint shadow of a bruise on her cheekbone.

"Come on this way," Eames said. "They're coming towards the drains now."

Arthur ran with them and hid in another alleyway, some distance from the drain. Eames was right. Within moments, the men came, looked around and ran off after not being able to locate Arthur.

"We're safe for now," Nadira said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Let's go."

* * *

The chemist looked up from his paperwork to see three familiar faces looking back at him. He smiled and got up from his desk.

"Well, what have we here? Arthur, Mr. Eames… it's been awhile. You all look…," Yusuf paused a moment, taking in their dusty and disheveled appearance. "…travel worn."

He raised his eyebrows at the vicious red and purple handprints around Arthur's neck but didn't ask questions.

"Since when do you send out someone else to do your work for you," Arthur asked hoarsely. "You got something for this?" He held up his burnt hands.

Yusuf shrugged, digging some burn ointment out of his first aid kit and handing it to Arthur.

"After I got back from Los Angeles, I figured it would be good to have someone help me with the compounds as well as the sleep lab down below. Business has been good. But, what can I do for you," Yusuf asked.

"I'm on a job. Extraction. You interested," Arthur asked, getting straight to business.

He handed the ointment back to Yusuf after smearing it on his hands and sat down heavily in a chair near Yusuf's desk. He felt better but was still a little shaky from being nearly strangled to death.

"I might be." Yusuf stood up and walked over to a plastic lined shelf filled with bottle after bottle of fluorescent colored chemicals, looking through them. "How long do I have to prepare?"

"I leave for Paris in three days, you and Eames are going on ahead to the final stop," Arthur stated.

Yusuf looked back at Arthur and Eames. "Surely it won't be just the three of us? Who's your other team member?"

"Ariadne."

"I see," Yusuf replied. "Right. Do you know exactly what we're dealing with?"

"I can't tell you while we're here in Mombasa. The employer just wanted me to get everyone together quickly."

"Where is our final stop," Yusuf asked.

"Tangier," Arthur said.

"Morocco…" Eames looked out the window, deep in thought. "Whoever hired us is very smart."

"Why's that?"

"Tangier is known for its criminal activity. It would be difficult to trace anyone there. But I don't believe any of us know Moroccan Arabic… Do you Yusuf?"

"A little, but it's pretty bad," Yusuf replied.

"The employer picked the location, not me. Besides, between you two, me, and Ariadne, we speak _a _lot of different languages. And we can _all _speak French," Arthur pointed out. "Problem solved."

"I'll bring some extra supplies along," Yusuf stated.

"How do you propose to bring sedatives and other such chemicals on a plane and over borders," Eames asked, while leafing through papers on Yusuf's desk.

"Never mind that, Mr. Eames. I have my ways."

"Bring a lot of extras, Yusuf. We need to be prepared. You're gonna meet us at Port Reitz, be there at 22:00 hours. The employer is sending me by one of his planes. You're gonna fly business for this one," Arthur instructed.

"And I was so hoping for first class," Eames lamented with a sigh before turning back towards the door. "Oh well, it's still better than coach."

"Before you go," Yusuf said as the men were leaving, "I was wondering, can we bring Nadira to work with us?"

Arthur's answer was swift and blunt. "No. We have enough team members as it is. This is dangerous work."

"Arthur, she just helped to get you here safely. She can hold her own. And she is a doctorate student from Pretoria. She has been working for The Rhodes Corporation for three years now. She is a valuable asset to me. "

"Not to mention, I've already overheard most of your plan," Nadira added. "Makes me a bit of a loose end if I don't come along, doesn't it?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows at that information. The Rhodes Corporation was one of the best sleep centers in the world. They had a heavy hand in the pioneering of extraction.

And she _did_ help save him.

Arthur looked at Nadira while weighing his options. Technically he didn't need her. Yusuf could man the PASIV. But he was also needed in the field for the last job. Arthur might need him on the field again. And she had a point. COBAL knew who she was. They knew she knew him.

Nadira knew too much.

"Fine, you can come along," he said reluctantly. "But you do as I say. One slip up and you're finished. Understood?"

"Understood," Nadira answered, trying to hide her excitement. She always wanted to go into the field. Now was her chance.

"Ok," Arthur said. "It's settled then. Nadira, I'll have a ticket ready for you. Yusuf, don't forget – 10 PM."

"Good day, gentlemen," Yusuf said nodding his head at the men before returning his attention back to the surface of his work table.

Arthur and Eames stepped back out onto the crowded street and looked at each other.

"Feels like old times again, doesn't it old man?" Eames asked jovially.

"Unfortunately."

"Let's hope nothing goes wrong this time," Eames said.

"Yeah, yeah…just don't be late," Arthur replied, waving his hand dismissively as he made to go back to his hotel.

Eames just shook his head as he watched the point man leave.

"_Still a stick in the mud… Some things never change," _the forger thought with a smile before turning and disappearing in the crowd.

* * *

_**Tangier, Morocco**_

A warm breeze drifted in from the Mediterranean, carrying the smell of salt. Ariadne leaned over the stone.

"I could get used to this," Ariadne said aloud, breathing in deep and enjoying the feel of the sun on her fair skin.

"I think get I'd bored after a while," Eames said, making Ariadne jump. She didn't hear him walk up to her.

"Eames. When did you get here," Ariadne asked.

"We've been here. Yusuf, Nadira and I have been waiting on you and Arthur to get here."

"Well I'm here now," Arthur said coming out onto the balcony with Ivanov, Nadira and Yusuf. "Ariadne, meet Nadira, Yusuf's assistant. She's gonna be helping us with the PASIV."

"And, before I forget, everyone, this is Alexander Ivanov, our new employer."

The rest of the team shook hands with Ivanov quickly before Arthur started speaking again. "Alright, let's get inside. We've got work to do."

"I have to be going," Ivanov said. "I have a flight to catch soon."

"You're not staying?"

"I trust you. I just wanted to see who was working for me. A good employer knows everyone on his team."

"Ok then… I'll get a hold of you when we're underway."

Arthur shook hands with Ivanov and turned his attention back to the rest of the group, herding them back inside the home. He got everyone settled in the study connected to the balcony Ariadne was standing on.

Eames looked around at everyone. Something was off. He thought about it for a moment before the light came on. "Arthur? Aren't we missing somebody?"

"Ivanov wasn't planning to stay," Arthur reminded Eames blandly while getting his presentation ready.

"What about the Extractor?"

"What are you talking about," Arthur asked, still going through a stack of papers.

"You're the Point Man," Eames said. "Who's going to be the Extractor, now that Cobb's out of the picture?"

Arthur stopped shuffling the papers he had to look at Eames.

"I am," he replied simply.

Eames exchanged looks with the rest of the team. "What do you mean? We have one Extractor and one Point Man. We always have one of each. That's how it's done."

"I will be doing both," Arthur explained, trying to keep his rising temper under control. He knew what Eames was getting at.

"Can you do both," Ariadne asked worriedly, looking first at Eames then at Arthur. "It wouldn't be too much for you, would it?"

"I wonder if Cobb would consider coming back as the Extractor," Yusuf said in a low voice.

"I can do it and no, Ariadne, it won't be too much," Arthur said, purposefully keeping his voice even. "Look – Cobb was my partner and he was excellent at his job, there's no denying that. But the difference between us is that I don't have a dead, murderous wife running around in my head. It was dangerous when he was the extractor because she was constantly trying to sabotage us. You can't compare me to him. Now, can we move on? We really have to get started."

Eames stood up from the chair he was sitting on. "Arthur, old man, I don't know if -"

"- Hey, if you have a problem with it, then just leave," Arthur interrupted, losing his temper momentarily. "I'll handle it."

"Alright, alright…" Eames put his hands up in surrender and sat back down. He didn't say anything else on the subject, but Ariadne couldn't help but notice the disquieted look that passed between him and Yusuf.

"Now, this should be standard procedure right? Sounded like it at first, but I think it's gonna get complicated," Arthur said, putting the previous conversation behind him.

Ariadne and Yusuf just looked at Arthur waiting for an explanation.

"Complications seem to be a specialty of ours. What have you got?" Eames asked folding his hands in his lap while making himself more comfortable.

* * *

_**Bangkok, Thailand, One week earlier**_

"You want us to go to Gotham? The Jungle?" Arthur asked. "What's there?"

"The remainder of Wayne Enterprises. Or rather, the new president, Miranda Tate," Ivanov said.

Arthur sipped his mint tea, clearly intrigued. He had, of course, heard about the shambles that made up Wayne Enterprises. Everyone had.

Rumor had it that Bruce Wayne had become a recluse for nearly eight years before he had resurfaced again. The most recent talk of the town was that he was ousted from Wayne Enterprises.

"I heard she took over for Wayne."

"Yes," Ivanov said. "But nobody knows the real reason except me."

Arthur waited silently.

"As you know, Wick Industries is about energy. I worked for Proclus Global under Saito and Kaneda before branching out on my own. We worked to provide energy to the masses that would not cause any more pollution than already exists. Clean energy. Bruce Wayne was working on one of our projects. He hired a nuclear physicist from my company, a Dr. Leonid Pavel, to build a fusion reactor. The project was announced publicly as everyone knows, but the condition between Mr. Wayne and myself was that our involvement would be kept quiet until the project was proven successful. Wick Industries has become rather… infamous… for its latest attempts at clean energy, as you may well remember."

Arthur listened patiently while thinking back to an incident several years back with Wick Industries which involved a nuclear reactor meltdown. As Arthur remembered it, that particular incident nearly cost Ivanov the company, his family, and his life. It certainly cost him his reputation. The man had received many death threats during that time.

"Mr. Wayne and I discovered that the core of the fusion reactor could be weaponized. We immediately stopped the clean energy project and shelved it indefinitely. Well, he went into hiding shortly thereafter and I continued with my work until I got wind of another man, John Daggett, who wanted the fusion reactor. I knew it would be bad if Daggett got a hold of it. Apparently Bruce felt the same way because he handed the company over to Miranda Tate. And, Wayne Enterprises had pretty much gone bankrupt after we stopped the project. I have learned that even though the company wasn't doing well, it wasn't until after a masked man named Bane attacked the Gotham Stock Exchange recently that Wayne Enterprises really went under. And then he was voted off the board and, in essence, fired from Wayne Enterprises."

'_Fired from the company his father built,' _Arthur thought morosely.

Everyone had heard about the attack on the Gotham City Stock Exchange. It was old news to Arthur, but the fusion reactor was new.

"Weaponized? You mean…" Arthur trailed off thinking of what someone could do with that much nuclear power. The havoc and loss of life would be staggering should that reactor land in the wrong deviant hands.

"Exactly our worries," Ivanov agreed to Arthur's unspoken thoughts. "In the right hands, we would have clean energy. No more smog, coal mining, that sort of thing. But in the wrong hands…"

"A bomb… It would level Gotham entirely," Arthur stated. "But who exactly is John Daggett?"

Ivanov looked at Arthur in surprise. He had assumed everyone knew the issues that went on with the board members of Wayne Enterprises. "John Daggett was a board member of Wayne Enterprises. It was no secret that he wanted Bruce out of the company. He wanted to take over. He was furious, to say the least, when Miranda Tate was named CEO and chair. Miranda Tate was also a board member of Wayne Enterprises. She is in the clean energy business. I believe Bruce put her in charge to save his company and to keep the fusion reactor from falling into the wrong hands."

"So what does this have to do with us?" Arthur asked.

"I have had my men posted in Gotham keeping very close tabs on Miranda Tate and her people. I have a feeling that she is not all she's cracked up to be. There are things about her that aren't adding up, but I can't get close enough to find out for sure. Who is she? Where is she from? What's her agenda? That's where your team comes in. I want to discover what she is hiding. I have a feeling that it's something big - something to do with that fusion reactor. As if that weren't enough, Dr. Pavel disappeared several weeks ago. I think she knows where he is."

Arthur abandoned his tea, an incredulous expression on his face. "Let me get this straight. You want us to perform an extraction, on the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, on a hunch?"

"It's not just a hunch," Ivanov stated quietly. "My employee is missing. He is the only one who knows how to fully operate it. The project we worked on is sitting somewhere, where the wrong person could just walk up and grab it."

Arthur stared at him, still unconvinced.

"I believe that whoever has Dr. Pavel will get the fusion reactor."

"I assume you're not in this out of the kindness of your heart," Arthur asked.

"Not quite. My family immigrated to Gotham from Russia when I was fourteen years old. I lived with my parents in the Narrows, the worst part of Gotham. Against all odds, I got through school in one piece. I finished at the university and after working at Proclus Global, I set up shop in Chicago to get away from Gotham. My parents are still there. They didn't want to leave, so the least I could do for them was to move them to a better part of Gotham. They own a bakery there. I help to cover expenses and I make sure that they are taken care of."

Ivanov looked at Arthur pleadingly. "My family is in Gotham along with half a million others. There are too many lives at stake. My company made the fusion reactor. It's my responsibility. I would not have called you if I wasn't sure of something going on. You're the last hope I've got."

This situation brought back to Arthur a saying he had heard once from an architect he had once worked with. The man always said, "You can't play near a mud hole without getting dirty."

And Gotham, as everyone knew, was the king of mud holes. It was a corrupt, crime-ridden city and the best breeding ground for the worst types of scum. The business that went on every day amongst Gotham's elite made COBOL Engineering's hidden agendas look like schoolyard recess.

There was a reason Gotham was known as "The Jungle." It was every man for himself out there.

Arthur slowly shook his head and sighed. "I want all the details. But you can't hold back on me. If you do, the mission has already failed."

"Thank you so much," Ivanov said gratefully reaching out to shake Arthur's hand.

Arthur stood to leave. "By the way," he started, "I've heard about the Batman that's been running around Gotham. Why not find him?"

Ivanov shrugged. "He showed up the night the masked man held up the GCSE and then he disappeared again."

"Wonderful," Arthur said. "Alright. Give me some time to set up my team."

Ivanov gave Arthur his information. "I'll be in touch."

* * *

_**Present Day**_

The complexity of the task, though still mostly unknown, weighed heavy in the atmosphere. The team was silent for some time before someone spoke up.

"This isn't your usual corporate espionage," Eames guessed.

"No, it isn't. And that's exactly my point," Arthur replied. "That means we are no longer going to be working just in dreams, but in reality as well."

"Wait a minute," Ariadne cut in, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "I thought extraction teams only had to deal with this kind of thing in the mind; with projections, right?"

This was starting to sound like more than she had bargained for.

"Ariadne, who do you think Cobb had been running from for so many years?" Yusuf asked.

"The corporations he had been dodging all over the place weren't trying to throw him in prison - they were out to kill him. This is why I usually never go into the field," Yusuf said, completely relaxed despite the direction the conversation was headed in.

Nadira, who had sat silent for the entire meeting spoke up. "But this job is different, right?"

Arthur nodded. "It's very different. We aren't going to Gotham to take down a company for another businessman. There is a lot involved here. We are dealing with the possibility of a nuclear crisis. We don't know for sure. I don't like going on speculation, but we don't have a lot of options."

Eames tilted himself further back in his chair. "Let's get started."


End file.
